


One Tiny Mistake

by E350tb



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Car Accidents, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E350tb/pseuds/E350tb
Summary: It was just one tiny mistake...
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	One Tiny Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> I did an angst.

** One Tiny Mistake **

It had been one tiny mistake. Anyone could have made it.

It had been raining hard - Jenny hadn’t expected it. They’d been coming back from Charm City after a performance there, and the weather report had predicted that the storm would hold off longer than it had. It was lucky they’d been borrowing Greg’s van instead of taking the Pizza car, or they’d have been soaked through. Sadie was staying the night with Shep, so it was just the three of them.

The others were asleep now, and she was focusing as hard as she could on the road. The intersection ahead, over the main Wilmingmore-Richmond road, was clear; the lights were green. She took a moment to close her eyes and yawn as they approached.

Because of this, she never saw the yellow sports car coming the other way, doing twice the speed limit on a wet and slippery road. If she did, she’d have pulled over and let the idiot pass.

But she didn’t notice in time. It was a tiny mistake anyone could’ve made.

Because she didn’t, she wasn’t clear when the other car spun out of control.

She remembered it vividly - the streamlined car shooting past the traffic lights, it’s side drifting towards her at well over 60mph. She could still feel her hands on the steering wheel, her jaw slightly dropped, a scream that was never able to escape her throat in time.

Then nothing. Not even darkness. Just  _nothing._

The next thing she knew she was staring up at the dark sky, cold rain streaming on her skin. There was a paramedic who looked like he’d seen a ghost; there was Greg, and the Dondai parked nearby. And next to her was Steven, his hands over his mouth, looking sick to the stomach.

She blinked.

“What happened?”

Steven didn’t reply - he stumbled back out of sight, shaking horribly, and she could hear him being sick in the grass. She didn’t understand - the air smelled like metal and burning rubber, and something was glowing nearby.

“You…” The paramedic opened and closed his mouth. “You should be…”

He pointed a shaking hand to the left, and Jenny’s gaze followed it.

There was a trail of red leading from her position in the mud by the road to what could only be described as a twisted ball of steel, warped and burning, where nothing was recognisable. The police had cordoned the area off, and just beyond the yellow tape were reporters, each reporting on the horrific sight before them. Beyond them were more figures; was that Vidalia? Mr. Dewey? Yellowtail? And why did they look-

“Jenny!”

Jenny was yanked up into a hug - Kiki, she realised, it was Kiki, and behind her were her father and Gunga. Why were they there? What was happening?

And then it came back to her; that last image before the crash. The car; her hands on the wheel; the feeling of sudden shock.

“Oh god…”

She looked back at the paramedic.

“Buck! Sour Cream!” she exclaimed. “Are they-”

The paramedic swallowed.

“I, uh… well, until now I thought you all…” He mopped his brow. “I-I need to talk to my supervisor about this.”

He darted off to a distant ambulance.

Her eyes darted back to Kiki, and she realised she was shaking.

“Kiki,” she said. “Wh-where are they? Where’s…”

Kiki drew back from the hug.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “I… they’re still in the van. Steven… you’re only still here because…”

Jenny looked down at her soaked hands - pink, covered in darker pink lines, like scar lines, and shaking so badly…

She turned her gaze once more. Steven had collasped into Greg’s arms, his chest heaving as he sobbed into his father’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “It’s… it’s my fault…”

Jenny looked back at the wreck. The world around was soaked, but her throat was as dry as the Sahara. It had been one mistake -  _one tiny mistake._

“No,” she replied. “It’s mine.”

And then she broke down.


End file.
